


Hopeless Wanderer

by TheKatInTheBox



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKatInTheBox/pseuds/TheKatInTheBox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Arthur have broken up, and Merlin is on the train to nowhere. Only a couple of old ladies and his mother’s voice in his head keep him on the right track (literally). Angst and fluff galore, whoopee!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hopeless Wanderer

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I don’t know what possessed me to write this fic… but I’ll give credit where it’s due. All those angsty fics out there, it’s your fault I wrote this. Anyways, other people I have to thank!!!! My amazing writing buddy and kinda-sorta-Beta for encouraging me to write the fic, and checking over it when it was done (I felt pretty great after her praise, thank you Jordan!). Aaaaaaaand, of course, I thank both BBC’s Merlin for inspiring the fic (and creating these character who are not and sadly never will be mine), as well as the Merlin fandom for writing great fics that led me to write my own. Thank you Mumford and Sons for the title, too. Your song Hopeless Wanderer is great (this is not a song fic though).Thank you all. :)

Sitting on a train, speeding towards god knows where; he hadn’t checked when he’d bought the ticket. Was this what his life was now? Aimless, meaningless, nothing to fill it? For months he’d been hopping from train to train, hostel to hostel, not even caring what city or town it was. The last place he’d stayed could barely be counted as a settlement, the thirty-something residents had formed some sort of rail side pit-stop. And that was all it was. Sure, the three roomed, ridiculously cheap hotel had been nice, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care anymore.

All he had were the clothes on his back and his bag; the dirty old duffel stuffed with everything he owned. Nondescript except for the name “Merlin Emrys”, stitched, lovingly so, on the side. It was all that mattered in his life. It was all he had.  
It was filled with memories of a mother long gone and a flat last lived; a life once loved, a man once kissed. How had his world come to this?

Merlin’s lips curled into a wry smile, he knew why. It had been his fault after all. Everything always was…. clumsy, forgetful, too talkative, and prone to overreacting. That night, nearly three months ago, was the end. The end of a life he’d loved more than anything, with his two favourite people at his side.

Long, pale fingers traced the name his mother had embroidered nearly four years ago the evening before his first day of University. Merlin’s heart ached. It yearned for the woman whose overbearing and caring attitude had been a steady presence for the first 22 years of his life.

She wasn’t the only one it yearned for. As if it had a mind of its own, his heart sped up, the pain sharp and fresh as the day it had begun.

“Arthur.” He whispered, eyes fogging with tears that had no right to be there. Merlin hadn’t the right to cry. It had been his fault, and they were over with now. That was it, the end, good bye.

Those words still hurt. They would never stop hurting. At least, it didn’t feel like it now. He still mourned for the loss of a friendship that had been so much more, and the mother he’d never stopped loving. Once again, Merlin’s mind betrayed him, bringing to the forefront the memories of the worst day of his life.

***

_The phone call had come while Arthur’s warm hands combed his hair in the kitchen as they prepared dinner together. He’d cried out, whether in disbelief or pain (or both) he didn’t know. Eyes, bluer and softer than even the brightest summer sky, looked down in concern. Somehow Merlin had ended up on the floor, he couldn’t remember falling._

_“She’s dead Arthur.” His voice had whispered brokenly, taking initiative as his body shut down. Grief, Merlin now knew, was paralyzing._

_Without words, Arthur had known. His eyes glistened with the tears Merlin couldn’t shed, and for half an hour the two men sat together in silence. They’d spoken afterwards, Arthur with a cup of tea in his hands and Merlin sitting on the kitchen chair. He’d spoken of how much he loved his mother, and cared for her more than he could ever have known. Arthur had listened quietly, interjecting only in the quiet that followed. Afterwards, they’d lain together in bed, tangled together for comfort.  
_ _“Merlin,” Arthur murmured, pressing a kiss to his lover’s still dry cheeks. The nod he received in return spurred him on and he made to continue on, but his voice was cut off by the ringing of the phone._

 _He’d leapt out of bed, and Merlin hadn’t even bothered to listen in on the conversation that followed (it grew louder and louder as it progressed). He started though at the sound of something being thrown, he assumed dully it was the phone. Moments later Arthur was back, “I have to leave for work. Now. I tried to get out of it, but I have to go. Only for a few days though, dad insisted.” Disgust, apology, and resignation were mirrored in tone and expression, and Merlin’s brow furrowed.  
_ _Arthur, whom Merlin needed most, now more than ever, was leaving. Didn’t he understand what he was going through? “What do you mean you’re leaving?” he’d replied monotonously, a wounded look on his face.  
_ _A fight had ensued, filled with the calm, almost soothing Arthur, and a shouting Merlin. The tears that hadn’t come before were now streaming down his face as he pulled himself from the bed. Sure, the two of them had fought before, but never had Merlin ever retaliated so badly. Grief, it seemed, was the motivator._

 _It had all ended when he’d said the words no-one had ever thought to hear from the young man’s mouth, not to his lover at any rate, “Fuck you Arthur Pendragon! I don’t care that you have your damned work. I should be the priority, and when I need you, you ‘have to leave.’ I’ve just lost my mother for god’s sake. Fuck you and your fucking life. Fuck your father and his business too.” There had been no response as Merlin shoved his partner from his sight and headed to the closet.  
_ _Not minutes passed before everything he cared about or needed was packed, including all the money that had been in a jar labeled “Holidays Only (don’t touch Merlin, it isn’t here to fuel your coffee addiction)”. More shouting occurred as Arthur tried to get Merlin to see reason. Nothing worked, and finally he gave up, going so far as to open the exit door and say, “Fine, Merlin, if you want to leave, you can. It isn’t like I need you in my life anyways.”_

_That was the last time they’d spoken, and Merlin had disappeared off the face of the earth, traveling on his own using trains and cheap hotels._

***

Merlin was woken from the memories by an elderly lady who touched his arm lightly and asked, “Are you alright dear? You’re crying.” The fingers that had still been tracing his name moved up, touching a cheek wet with tears.  
“Sorry, yes, I’m fine. No need to worry.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and the lady nodded sympathetically before going back to her seat.

It was the first time anyone had spoken to him that way since he’d left home, the sympathy and care clear. Merlin trembled as he remembered every touch, every loving whisper he’d known. He really, really missed Arthur. Like a punch to the gut he remembered Arthur’s hurt and angry face as he’d walked out the door, tossing his keys in the garbage as a statement. Why did it have to hurt so goddamn much?

He sighed, trying to compose himself as he was want to do at least once a day, and wiped his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. Winter was fast approaching, as was obvious by the stormy clouds, and Merlin needed to stop his wandering travels if he wanted to get out of his depressed slump before it got too cold to travel.

Not that he could. Arthur and his mother, both gone from his life in the space of a day. He was actually quite surprised that he was remotely functioning anymore.

Only adding to his misery was the fact that Merlin had thrown his phone in a gully after getting over 50 texts from a mixture of Arthur, Gwen, Lance and Gwaine. He knew that if he’d kept his phone he’d have given in to the temptation and read them. But he also knew that by reading them, he’d never forget the people he’d left behind, and he’d never be free. For the sake of his sanity he had to either forget, or go back, and the latter wasn’t an option. He couldn’t, in all honesty, face Arthur again. It would end in disaster, he was sure of it.

At one point in a fit of weakness he’d stopped by an internet café and checked his email. 23 unread emails from his contacts, another 67 from everything else. He’d clicked on one, just one that was from Gwen.

 _Dear Merlin,_ it had read.

_Where the hell are you? I know you are hurting, but we need you. All of us need you. Lance and I miss you so much; especially those Saturday evening card games. Nobody else plays like you do Merls. Gwaine nearly had a fit when he heard what happened and punched Arthur in the face. Don’t worry, nothing was broken, and it’s out of his system now. But really, I’ve never seen Gwaine so upset. Then there’s Arthur. He’s…. well, he isn’t doing well. Your flat’s a mess, and he isn’t sleeping great. He goes to work for hours and hours every day and runs when he isn’t working. If you don’t come home soon he’ll end up working himself to death. I don’t think he’s had one day off since you left._   
_Please Merlin, come home. We miss you._   
_I miss you._

_Gwen <3_   
_p.s. You better be alive and well you bastard._

It had practically broken his heart, and that was the closest he’d come to thinking about going back to London, and his life.

He didn’t make the mistake of checking his email again.

That was seven weeks ago. Merlin had been traveling for a long, long time. Soon, though, he was bound to run out of money. He didn’t want to use his mother’s inheritance in his attempts at running away. Hunith would never have agreed with his form of coping, anyways. In fact, Merlin could hear her now, telling him to “Man up Merlin,” and to “speak to your boyfriend.” If she’d been the type to swear, then she would have, for sure.

Merlin smiled then, a sad smile that barely turned the corners of his mouth. What was he without his mother and other half?

A coward, that’s what. A bloody coward.

***

It took another week of traveling for Merlin to even contemplate going home again. He cried, ranted, and cried some more before deciding against it. Then he went to bed and didn’t sleep a wink.

***

It took three weeks more for him to man up and take the train to London. Merlin didn’t know what had caused it, only that one morning he woke up dead set on boarding the homeward train. Perhaps it was the dream he’d had that had changed his mind so drastically. His mother sitting beside him on the train, smoothing down his wayward hair and whispering, “I love you, cariad, you know that? But so does Arthur, and he needs you. You two are made for each other, ‘two sides of the same coin’ is a term I’d use. Please, Merlin. Go home. Let me go, and go home.”

He’d woken up with tears streaming down his face, a burning heart, and a new courage that hadn’t been there before. Immediately, he’d showered and dressed, noticing for the first time just how gaunt he’d become. But no matter, he was going home. There, Gwen was sure to nurture him like her own, and Gwaine would take him bar hopping, and Arthur?

He had no idea what Arthur would do. To be honest, he was more than a little scared to find out.

It didn’t matter though, because Hunith’s voice rang in his ears, sending another bout of courage through him that lasted until he set foot on the train. Of course, right as the doors closed behind him he began to hyperventilate. He had to be sat down by yet another kindly old woman, who smiled at him and tottered off with her equally elderly husband.

Merlin grimaced and hunched over in his seat, folding in on himself as the weight of what he was doing crashed down on him.

A whimper escaped his lips and he shuddered. It had been nearly four months now since he’d disappeared, all without one tiny bit of contact with anyone he knew. For all they knew, he was gone forever.  
He stopped that train of thought immediately. A panic attack on the train would do him no good.

***

Hours later London came into view, and Merlin started to hyperventilate all over again. By this point his clothes were sticking to his sweaty body, and his nails were in bad shape from all the anxious nibbling he’d done.

If he’d thought getting on the train was hard… Well, it was nothing compared to getting off. He had to literally be shoved off the train by the crowd. His barely together duffel bag was clasped tightly in his arms as he took in the sight of the all too familiar scene. “Hello London.” He mumbled under his breath, voice hoarse after the long, silent ride.

Merlin didn’t know how long he stood on the platform, but by the time he moved again nobody was nearby. He took a shuddering breath in before walking to the road and waving over a taxi. He knew exactly where he was going.  
The cabbie asked for his destination and he told him before settling back, keeping his shaking hands wrapped tightly around his bag.

It seemed no time at all before the car was pulling to a stop, and he was paying the driver. His feet moved on their own accord as he stepped out of the cab to stare up at the tall and fancy glass building with ‘Pendragon’ in huge golden letters on the front. For a moment, Merlin was frozen, his eyes wide and scared while people moved about him on their way to and from work. “Come on cariad,” the imagined voice of his mother whispered comfortingly in his ear, “You can do it. I believe in you.” It was all he needed.

His feet carried him to the front doors of the building, where he stopped, knowing that Arthur had to finish sometime in the day. It was already five o’clock and Merlin didn’t really want to cause a fuss in the offices of Arthur’s father’s business.  
So he stood, and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Where is he? Merlin asked himself, growing steadily more anxious as six o’clock came and went. What if he was home sick? Or on a day off? He didn’t think he could keep up this running level of courage for much longer. If he had to leave, he’d never get around to it.

He didn’t move, and stood hunching by the big glass doors, eyes flicking from the streets to the lobby and back again.

Then he saw it. That oh so familiar flash of gold, coming his way.

Arthur. On his way out of the building. Wearing his regular suit and tie. It was the bright red tie that Merlin had bought him for their one year anniversary of being together. A strange feeling of warmth spread through him even as he began to panic,

almost missing Arthur as he stepped outside and waved for a cab.

“Arthur?” he finally managed, his voice a mere croak. “Arthur!” he tried again, shouting louder than he’d meant to and wincing.

The man in question turned around, looking confused before his eyes caught Merlin’s.

Gods, but Arthur was beautiful. It seemed almost cliché, but the clouds cleared, and he seemed to glow. Light glinted off of bright golden hair, his eyes shimmered in the sun, and then his mouth fell open. Shock, both hopeful and scared, radiated from him and Merlin took a stumbling step forward, dropping his duffel with a thump. Everybody around them disappeared; his eyes were for Arthur and Arthur alone.

Beautiful Arthur, gorgeous Arthur, lovely, perfect Arthur.

“M-Merlin? Wha-?” He was stock still, not moving towards or away from Merlin. Merlin clenched his fists and gritted his teeth; the fear of rejection greater than it had ever been before.

“I’m sorry Arthur. I’m so, so sorry for leaving you like that.” It wasn’t enough, he knew it wasn’t, but what else could he say? Arthur didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, so Merlin took it as a cue to continue, “I left and I shouldn’t have. I should have contacted you, I know. Good lord Arthur but I’m so sorry.” He took another step forward, biting his lips now, his eyes even wider than before as he tried not to hyperventilate any more than he already was.

Then Arthur was moving, his hand reaching up as if to touch Merlin, but stopping short. “You’re back?” he whispered, his hand shaking in mid-air.

Later on neither would know what had happened. One of them moved first, or maybe they both moved at the same time, but they would never really know (Merlin would always joke that Arthur was the most desperate and lunged forward first, but he couldn’t know for sure). All they knew was that one minute they were staring at each other in shock and awe, and the next they were hugging. Merlin’s arms wrapped tight behind Arthur’s neck, and Arthur gripped him as if he never wanted to let go. ‘Hug’ didn’t even seem to describe what they were doing well enough. More than just hugging, they were clasping each other as if nothing else mattered. And nothing did. Nothing mattered but each other; not the cabbies shout of “get in now or I’m leaving”, or the people giving them strange looks, not even the reason why Merlin left in the first place.

The kiss that followed was a little bit legendary. It was a kiss neither man had seen coming, and neither had ever thought they’d feel again. The touch conveyed so much more than love. Merlin’s kiss sent apologies and guilt over, as well as an overwhelming relief. Arthur’s was different. It was filled with happiness and shock, and more than a tiny bit of possessiveness. He had his Merlin back, and nothing was ever going to take him away again.

***

_2 weeks later  
_

“A toast to the two most disgustingly cute couples in all of Europe!!” Gwaine shouted, nearly breaking his cup as he slammed it against Gwen’s (she yelped and Lance glared at him playfully before pressing a chaste kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek). Merlin was grinning ear to ear, as he had done for the past two weeks straight. The only time he’d stopped was when he’d visited his mother’s grave, but even then he had smiled softly and thanked her for talking sense into him in his dreams.

Arthur had been grinning even more, and every time he looked at Merlin an expression of pure devotion crossed his face (sickening, Gwaine called it). If Merlin caught it, he’d grin back and lean over for the ‘mandatory’ kiss.

Lance and Gwen were practically engaged already and Merlin and Arthur had moved back in together, buying a new flat and selling the original one. And Gwaine? Well, he was still as promiscuous as ever, and everyone was fine with that so long as he avoided flirting with the four of them. They excused him if he was drunk, but only if he was really drunk.

They were celebrating, for Merlin had come home, and everyone was happy.

Gwen’s reaction to his arrival home was paramount to a fan girl finding out she’s won tickets to kiss her favourite celebrity. She’d screamed, collapsed against the door, and then ran at Merlin to tackle him to the floor (Arthur had brought Merlin to “Gwance’s” apartment). Lance was more subdued, having run to the door at Gwen’s scream but grinning happily at the sight of Merlin, hugging him tighter than he ever had before once Gwen helped him off the floor

Everybody thought Gwaine’s response was the best. All four of them stopped by his flat, hiding Merlin behind them until he came out into the hallway. Merlin had stepped forward and was immediately pinned against the wall. “WHAT. THE. BLOODY. FUCK. MERLIN.” Gwaine had shouted before pressing a sloppy and unexpected kiss to his best friend’s lips. Arthur, still feeling possessive of his newfound boyfriend, had shoved the man out of the way to replace the foreign lips with his own. He was grinning though, and all was forgotten, even the fact that Gwaine had broken the unspoken rule to not kiss someone else’s lover.

And that was that. The gang was back together the way they were supposed to be. Not even the rain that poured down for the entire week afterwards as if in protest of all the happiness could dampen anyone’s spirits.

In fact, as the five drunken friends staggered out of the pub a few hours after the toast, they smiled at the rain that chilled them to the bone. Gwen and Lance went home and Gwaine did too (they thought at least), but Arthur and Merlin stood outside the bar for a little while longer. They stood in the rain, holding hands as their hair was flattened and cold water trickled down their backs. Neither one was frowning, nor would they anytime soon. How could they do anything but smile?

“Don’t worry Arthur; I’ll never leave you again. I love you, and I’ll be here like I always am, protecting you.” Merlin smiled, Arthur grinned, and then they were kissing yet again. The world went on around them and it continued to pour, but to them, nothing existed but the other, not even the chill, and everything was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Don't hesitate to say what you think about my fic, constructive criticism or whatever.


End file.
